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Up in Flames

Page 40

   


When I reached the aisle, it was empty except for a yoga mom with a baby crying in her cart. No man. No Gannon. I’d imagined it. That would make more sense. But I wasn’t ready to give up yet, so I ran down the aisle and then proceeded to check all the other aisles.
“Excuse me, miss, can I help you?” One of the guys stocking shelves stopped my frantic search, and I realized I’d been at it for a while now. Gannon was not in the Whole Foods, and I was losing my mind.
I shook my head no and went back to find the cart I’d deserted. The cereal aisle no longer appealed to me. I was ready to leave. I took all my yogurt and a few fruits and veggies and checked out. The cashier kept glancing up at me like I was about to make a mad dash out the door. I guessed she’d seen me searching the place like a madwoman.
I paid for my food and left. So much for distracting myself. I wasn’t going to go to Vegas and find him, so I was apparently going to stay in Rosemary Beach and hallucinate. But I’d been so sure I had seen him. How could you make that up in your head? He wasn’t even wearing a shirt I had seen before. This one had been long-sleeved and gray. Was it normal for your head to create stuff like this?
The entire drive back to the house, I replayed what I had seen and tried to tell myself I wasn’t crazy. There had to have been a man who resembled him in that aisle. I didn’t just make that up.
The yogurt filled up more of my fridge than anticipated, and I left out a mango one and grabbed a spoon. It was time I watched some Gossip Girl. Just something to get my mind off of Gannon. He was ruining me. I needed closure, but how would I get that if I never saw him again?
The idea of never seeing him again made my chest ache. I didn’t want to think about it. But it was true. He’d be a memory before too long, and I would have to find a way to move on. There had to be someone out there who could help me let him go. A few days with a man, and he had become harder to get over than any guy I’d ever been in an actual relationship with. God, I wished I’d never met him.
That was a lie. Even though I might be losing my mind because of him, I was glad he had found me. Because until him, I’d never felt the lightning. Now I knew what it was and that it was real.
The light from the TV still cast a glow over the dark room. When his body moved over mine, I stiffened for a moment, thinking I was awake and this was him. Until I realized that it couldn’t be. I was sleeping, and he was here. Even in the living room. The TV was silent, and I knew I had fallen asleep with the volume on. My mind was just correcting the things that could mess up my fantasy.
I should thank it for that. Seeing as today it had made me think I might be crazy with a glimpse of him. I moaned as his hand slid up my shirt, and I stretched my body, anxious for more.
“I didn’t tell you that you could move,” he said. His voice had a teasing lilt to it that I wasn’t used to hearing. “But it pleases me to watch you. Even though my hand itches to slap your ass for wearing those running shorts. Showing off every seductive inch of your shape.”
Oh. OK. I didn’t open my eyes yet. I enjoyed the closeness of him. When he was with me like this, it was as if we were one being instead of two. He made me feel safe and wanted in a way I had never been before.
“You like my hands on you whether in pleasure or pain, don’t you?” he asked, although he knew the answer.
I moved again and bit my lip, just before his hand slapped my stomach. He made a small sound of pleasure, then jerked my shirt off and slapped at my bare breasts before his mouth covered one nipple and began to suck on it. The sting soothed by his heated mouth sent electricity coursing through me. I was so close to an orgasm already that it teased me and licked at me just barely.
He shoved his hand between my legs roughly, and he didn’t ease into me as his fingers entered with force. His aggressive attack only made me quiver in excitement for more. This made me as twisted as he was. I knew that, but I didn’t care.
“Suck my dick . . . bitch,” he said, the last as if to test me. As if he knew I’d been called a bitch earlier today in my home and had not liked it at all. This was my dream, so I wanted that from him.
Being commanded like that did something for me that I’d never expected. Gannon, or the fantasy of Gannon, was showing me just what was in my psyche that I didn’t know was buried there.
He grabbed a handful of my hair, then pulled me off the sofa and onto my knees in front of his tall, massive, muscular frame. My eyes were open now, and the halo of light around him from the TV made him look like some ancient god here to own and then destroy me.
Even with that thought, I wanted to please him. I wanted him to handle me roughly. Taking him in my hands, I slowly slid my mouth over the thick head of his erection. I would never get it all into my mouth, but I’d gag myself trying.
On the first gag, he groaned and grabbed my head, pressing deeper until I couldn’t breathe and thought I might actually throw up. Then he released me, and I pulled back, gasping for air as my saliva ran between him and my mouth in strands. My eyes watered, and I looked up at him, wondering if this was what he wanted to see.
He cupped my face with his hand. “God, you’re so fucking beautiful.”
Those words were enough. I began to suck him deeper, and he didn’t touch my head again except to run his fingers through my hair and praise me. I grew so determined and excited with each word from him that I didn’t even realize it when his cock began to grow and the vein on the underside began to pulse, warning me that he was about to come.